Time Machines
by boswifedeb
Summary: A careless accident leads to the discovery of two cars, both of which are surrounded in mystery, and Houston is given the task of solving the 60 year old case of a disappearing mobster. **Immediately follows "Throw Away"**Rated T.
1. Chapter 1

"**TIME MACHINES"**

****Immediately follows "Throw Away"****

"**While seeking revenge, dig two graves - one for yourself."  
Douglas Horton**

**CHAPTER 1 **

Phillip Burris was 63 years old, had been married and divorced twice, served four years in the Army and worked as an auto mechanic since his discharge back in 1973. As he drove toward Lake Houston the balding man cursed at the other drivers on the road, firmly convinced that ninety nine percent of them didn't deserve to have a license. Turning onto the dirt and gravel road that led to the boat ramp that he always used, Phillip paid no attention to the fact that the boat trailer he was towing bounced crazily on one wheel as he made the turn, nor did he notice the looks from the group that was hiking along the shoulder of the road who were forced to turn away from the angry cloud of dust and rock that boiled up as he accelerated toward his destination.

When the ramp was in sight he gave a cocky laugh as he passed a young couple who were about to launch their boat and skidded to a stop on the loose gravel before throwing the truck into reverse and backing down the ramp, cursing loudly yet again as he realized that the lake level was lower than he could ever remember seeing it. He climbed down from the cab removing the straps on the back of the trailer and then unhooking it from the winch. _I'll show these kids how to launch a boat. _ Once back into the truck he roughly put it in reverse and stomped on the gas, quickly backing down to the water before slamming on his brakes causing the boat to shoot off the trailer and into the water. Laughing at the looks on the faces of the young couple he gunned the truck and parked, taking up two spaces. It wasn't until he got out and began walking toward the ramp that he saw the pair laughing hysterically. There in the water his boat was floating on out into the bay; he had forgotten to tie off to a nearby tree.

As the younger man managed to quit laughing he offered to take Phillip to his boat.

"Yeah – thanks." Burris waited impatiently as the couple launched the boat, giving them a single "thank you" as he climbed over the side and into his own craft. As they pulled away and began cruising toward the mouth of the bay both looked back at him and laughed again. After cursing yet again under his breath at the pair he started the engine, slamming it forward at full throttle and zipping past the pair, flipping them off as he looked back. In that instant everything seemed to happen incredibly fast as the boat slammed into something under the water and Phillip was thrown out.

As he was plunged down into the water he couldn't believe his eyes: there in front of him were two cars sitting neatly side by side as if parked in a lot. Though he couldn't swim, the man refused to wear a life jacket and as he was struggling to reach the surface he involuntarily opened his mouth to scream as he came face to face with a skeleton that appeared to be staring at him from the passenger seat of one of the cars. A crashing pain went through his chest and everything went dark.

"I can't believe this is your boat." LAPD Lieutenant Michael Hoyt looked over at his best friend as they started out across the lake.

"Why not? It's a good boat. Daddy gave it to me when I was a kid. Got a lot of good memories in her." Matt Houston patted the console of the old aluminum boat.

"It's a lot smaller than _"Endeavor"_ was." Hoyt shook his head as he thought back a few years to the yacht the private investigator had owned when they met. Back then Houston had a reputation as a playboy millionaire – a ladies man. These days he was a happily married man. Much to the relief of everyone who knew them, Matt and his partner in Houston Investigations, CJ Parsons, had been married and now were the proud parents to fourteen month old Catherine Rose, had recently adopted a fifteen year old boy named Tomás, and were expecting twin boys in the fall. He glanced over at his friend who looked completely happy and relaxed. "I bet you like this one better, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do; CJ and I spent a lot of time on board when we were growing up. I wouldn't trade it for a million bucks." He eased the throttle forward and they headed towards the mouth of the bay. "Uh oh." Up ahead he saw what appeared to be a crash. A young woman was worriedly leaning over the side of the vessel looking down into the water. As she heard the boat approaching she frantically waved her arms.

Easing in next to her Matt warped the two boats together as she told him what had happened.

"Jes?" A young man had surfaced with an arm around a lifeless looking man.

Moving over into the couple's boat, the PI and cop helped him bring the man on board. "Is there anyone else down there?" The young man shook his head no and turned to help Hoyt as he started CPR on the victim.

Pulling out his cell phone Houston called the Harris County Sheriff's Department of which he had been a member for about six months. "This is Sergeant Houston – badge number 5156." He described the situation and requested help. "They're on the way." He turned to where the other two men were working on the victim.

The cop shook his head. "This guy is a goner." He looked at the young man. "So he was passing you and ran into something?"

Matt was peering down into the murky water. "It's a car."

"There's two down there…with skeletons." The young man pointed down.

The PI looked around. "The lake is way down – lower than I've ever seen it." He took off the sneakers he was wearing as well as his socks and shirt before going over the side of the boat, taking a deep breath and going beneath the surface. Just as the young guy had said there were two cars sitting side by side on the bottom of the lake; one was a late seventies model Chevy containing four skeletons and the other was a Studebaker housing two more, the driver of which appeared to have a gunshot wound from the hole that was in his skull.

As he broke the surface Houston was helped back into the boat by Hoyt and the young man who introduced himself as Eric Cortez and the young woman as his wife Jessica as he extended his hand.

"Matt Houston." The PI sat down on the side and slicked his hair back. "Looks like a 70's model Chevelle and a Studebaker…maybe a '52 or '53." Turning he pointed to the road which ran along the bank. "Bet they ran off of there. There used to be a lot of drag races along that stretch. That's probably what happened to the Chevelle…but not the Studebaker."

"What makes you say that?" Hoyt looked at his friend.

"Looks like a gunshot wound in the driver's head."

"Yeah, I guess that doesn't really point to a drag race." The cop rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Go ahead and say it, Michael." Houston grinned at him. Hoyt shook his head and began laughing. "Go ahead."

"Lightning rod." The cop cracked up as did Houston.

A few minutes later the lake patrol arrived with a passenger that surprised Houston. Sheriff Francine Martinez shook her head. "I heard you were in town. Just couldn't have a quiet visit could you?"

"No ma'am, it doesn't seem that way."

"Who's your friend here?"

"Sheriff Martinez, meet Lieutenant Michael Hoyt – LAPD."

"Well sure – we spoke on the phone last December. It's a pleasure to meet you – just wish it wasn't here."

"Yes ma'am."

Martinez listened as Houston described the scene down below. "You say it was a 70's model Chevelle…did you happen to notice if it had a license plate on it?"

"I didn't look but I will." Houston slipped back over the side as the sheriff arranged for a boat with a crane to be called in to remove the vehicles. He surfaced and waited for her to end the call. "Texas plate DJM-779. I'll go check the other one." Once again he disappeared and quickly resurfaced. "Texas plate 388-ZMV."

As the cowboy started back down Hoyt leaned over the side. "What are you doing?"

"You'll find out in a minute." The crooked grin and the twinkle in his eyes caused the cop to crack up. He watched as his friend swam around to the far side of the vehicles. In a minute he was coming back to the surface with something in one hand. "Open up the white cooler." He swam over to the old boat and surprised his buddy by tossing a blue catfish into the cooler.

"No you didn't…" Hoyt began laughing.

"Houston?" Martinez slipped over onto Matt's boat. "Did you just remove evidence from the crime scene?" She laughed as she finished the question.

"Yes ma'am – I'd say about seven pounds worth." He boarded the boat.

"My brother likes to do that, too. Anyway, the Chevelle is part of a mystery that goes back to 1986. Four teenagers disappeared on their prom night. Looks like they've been found. Now the Studebaker is a little different story." She took the Fizzy Pop that Matt pulled out of the other cooler. "Thanks. Do you remember hearing about Tank Oliphant?"

"The guy who ran booze and numbers?" Houston sat down on one of the seats.

Martinez popped the drink and took a sip nodding her head. "Yep. That was his '53 Studebaker – and possibly him. His wife reported both him and the car as missing in February of 1954."

"Yeah, I remember my dad talking about that. Two months later Oliphant's wife married her husband's second in command but it wasn't legal because Oliphant hadn't been found and it hadn't been long enough for him to be declared dead."

"Uh huh. But that didn't stop her and Miles Magowsky."

"Nope – they went right on without skipping a beat." He took a long swig. "Huh…not what I expected to find out here today."

"You found a piece of Texas history – and that's no fish tale."

Later that evening at the Houston ranch, the two friends sat down to a meal of fried catfish and talked about the big mystery of Tank Oliphant's disappearance. Madre Rosa had just finished cleaning up after the meal and sat down at the table with the two men. "I remember hearing my mother and father talking about that when I was a girl…quite the scandal back in those days."

Houston had his laptop open and had been looking through the information about the Oliphants. "The general consensus was that Magowsky wanted Tank's operation as well as Lydia Oliphant. He ran it until he got busted in '74." The PI continued to read. "Well what do you know? Both of them are still alive. He's 82 and she's 80. They live over in Atascocita." He took a sip of coffee.

After some calculations Hoyt spoke. "So Magowsky was 20 years old when all of this happened."

Madre Rosa spoke up. "Tank was in his 40's when he disappeared."

Matt worked the keyboard a little more. "Oliphant married her when she was 16 and he was 40." His phone rang. "Hey Lil Mama, how're ya doin'?"

CJ was sitting in the recliner that they shared so often. "I'm fine. Are you having fun finding sunken Studebakers?" Both cracked up.

"I can't slip anything by you can I? And technically I'm not the one that found it." He explained the details. "But I did find a nice blue cat under the Chevelle – mighty tasty, too."

"You rat!" CJ laughed again. "So are you and Michael having fun?"

"We are – and hopefully we won't get involved with any more sunken cars. How's everybody doing there?"

"Great. Tomás took Kathy to the movies with Sheila as a driver and chaperone and Catey and Tilly are playing here in the den."

Matt could hear their daughter laughing and an occasional _woof_ from the half Husky/half Blue Heeler that was her constant companion and bodyguard. He passed the news about Tomás and Kathy along to Michael who approved.

"Guess I better give Catey a bath. Do you want to talk to her?"

"Of course." He put the phone on speaker and gave a big smile as the toddler came to the phone.

"Daddy!"

"Hey Lady Bug – whatcha doin'?"

"Me an' Tilly play hide an' seek." She giggled.

"Uh huh. Can you and Tilly do a job for me?"

"Uh huh."

"Can you give Mama a big ole hug and kiss for me? And take good care of her?"

"Uh huh. Here Mama." He could hear as she did. In a minute she was back talking and after a few minutes left to go play with Tilly some more.

"Let me know if you need me, Babe."

"We're fine. Just see if you can stay out of trouble. Love you, Cowboy."

"Love you, too. 'Bye."

"She hasn't found out the whole reason why you came down here has she?" The housekeeper smiled.

"I don't think so." He gave a chuckle. "Think I'm going to take a ride over there. Do y'all want to go?"

"No, I've got some things to do around here." She got up from the table and gathered the cups.

"Okay. C'mon, Pard." He popped Hoyt on the back of the head and went out to the truck.

"So what did you find out about it?" Michael got in the passenger seat and they went down the drive.

"It's definitely up for sale but from what Lyle told me it needs a lot of work." Matt turned right at the end of the drive and went about half a mile before turning right into the driveway of what had been the ranch of Errol Parsons – CJ's uncle. She had come to live with him after the death of both of her parents. Parsons had been the exact opposite of his brother Eddie who was CJ's father. Errol had been a mean, self-centered drunk who despised nearly everyone including his niece and the Houstons.

Pulling up outside of the house, Matt put the truck into park, silently staring at it and what was left of the barn. He finally spoke. "This is the first time I've set foot on this place since CJ and I graduated from high school in 1997." They got out and went up on the front porch, peeking in through the windows. "Looks like the last owner wasn't any better than Errol." The living room was a shambles of broken down furniture, ragged carpet, dust, and spider webs.

Hoyt gave a low whistle. "How long has it been empty?"

"About two months." The cowboy went down the steps and to the barn. The roof was missing in several places as were some of the boards on the walls. As he opened the door one of the hinges sagged and it swung open with a loud creak. Removing a flashlight from his back pocket he carefully entered and went straight over to the wall on the right hand side, the beam of light landing on a piece of metal that was jutting out of a large wooden beam. When he spoke it was almost a whisper. "It's still here."

The cop looked at the darkened piece of metal. "That's the knife?"

Matt looked over at his friend clearly surprised. "You know about that?"

Nodding he replied. "Roy told me."

"I didn't know that he knew about it."

"Bill told him right after it happened."

"He was a mean son of a …" the PI stopped, then turned to shine the light around the barn. It was a mess.

"Do you think she'll be okay with it after everything she went through here?" Hoyt looked at the decaying old walls and the garbage that had been left behind by the previous owner.

Houston turned back toward the door as he spoke. "Even when we were kids she always said that she wanted it so she could run it the right way." He gave Michael a sad smile. "She loved the ranch but not Errol."

"I don't think anyone loved Errol."

"Not even Errol."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2 **

Matt signed the check and handed it over to the banker. "Congratulations, Houston. It's all yours. What are you going to do with it? Expand your ranch?"

"Not exactly." The cowboy put the receipt into a folder. "This is going to be CJ's project – but I would appreciate it if you would keep quiet about it."

"Sure, sure. How is she doing?"

"Fine – got twins due in late September."

"No…and you've already got a little girl don't you?"

"Yes sir and we just adopted a fifteen year old boy a few weeks ago."

"Well congratulations again!"

"Thanks. Guess I better get moving. It was nice to see you again." The two shook hands.

"You let me know if there's anything else I can do for you."

"Yes sir." Matt settled the white straw hat back on his head as he and Hoyt walked out to the truck. "You ready to do some more fishing?"

"Sure." They headed back toward the ranch when Matt's phone rang. "Hey Chuck."

"Howdy. How's the fishing? Catch any more Studebakers?"

"Funny."

"How would you feel about doing a little work while you're here?"

"I did that yesterday." Both cracked up. "What do ya need?"

"Sheriff Martinez thought you might like to follow up on the Oliphant case."

"So now she's getting you to do her dirty work?"

"Somebody's gotta do it…and besides - you do work here."

"Uh huh. I'll be down there in a few minutes." He hung up and looked at Hoyt. "Want me to drop you off at the ranch? You can take the boat out."

"Nah. I'll just tag along. Who knows? Maybe I'll transfer down here. I kind of like it."

"Are you serious? You do realize that it ain't all catfishin' and Studebakers."

"Yeah, I know. Things are just…I don't know…a little more relaxed here."

"Uh huh." Matt turned around and in a short while they were at the Sheriff's Department. After getting Michael a visitor's pass they went into the squad room which had been changed since Matt's last visit. Rows of cubicles were neatly arranged. Looking around for Chuck and not seeing him, the PI let out a whistle and a hand shot up into the air three rows over. "Some things never change I guess." Snickering he led the way over to Chuck's desk.

"What we've got on it is in here." The detective handed him a folder. "How are you, Michael?" The two shook hands.

"Good – how about you?"

"Fine."

"If y'all are done with the pleasantries…" Houston looked around. "…where's my chair?"

Grinning, Chuck pointed behind his friend. "If it was a snake it woulda bit you in the butt." He gave Michael a wink as Houston turned to find a desk with a nameplate on it reading _"Det. Sgt. Matt Houston"_.

"Ooookay wasn't expecting that." He walked around, shot a look at Chuck and then looked under the desk and inspected the chair before sitting down. "Gotta make sure you didn't booby-trap it."

"Ha ha! You said booby!" Chuck cracked up and Hoyt just shook his head.

"Are you sure you two aren't related?"

"Just been a bad influence on each other for thirty years." Matt kicked back and put his feet up on the desk. "Is there a chair Michael can steal?"

"He can have mine…" Chuck stood and stretched. "Gotta go get DNA samples from family members of the folks in the Chevelle. See ya later."

"Alright." Matt flipped open the file and began reading, most of the information a repeat of what he had found out the night before. "Ah hah…the driver was shot with a .38…the bullet was recovered from the dashboard." He continued reading. "The ME also says that both victims were male…and the passenger was likely stabbed. There are striations on two of his ribs that appear to be from a knife." After finishing the report he flipped through the pictures that had been made of both victims as well as the car, a puzzled look on his face.

"What?" Michael leaned forward and took the folder that Matt held out.

"The passenger was stabbed…the driver shot in the head. How many people do you know of who drive after being shot in the head?"

"Good point. So there had to be someone else in the car."

"Unless the driver shot himself after they went in the water."

"Murder-suicide."

"It would sure help if we knew who the other victim was. I wonder…" He sat up to the desk and began working the keyboard. "…who else might have gone missing around that same time?"

"Good idea. I wonder if there is anyone who could tell us more about what was going on back then?"

"Maybe." Houston looked around as he heard a printer come to life somewhere nearby. Following the sound he retrieved the print out and went back to the cubicle. "This is a list of all the unsolved missing males from that time." He sat down and looked at the list, thinking for a minute before picking up the phone. "Hey there – have you got a minute? Good. How's your Great Uncle Ferris doing?...Uh huh. Think they would mind a couple of visitors? I'd sure appreciate it. 'Bye." Standing up and stretching he reached for his hat. "Ready to take a ride?"

"Sure." Michael replaced the chair and followed his friend outside to his truck. "Where are we going?"

"Chuck's mom's house. His great uncle lives with her. He was a Ranger back in the 40's and 50's." They drove to the little house not far from the Houston ranch and exited the vehicle. "Ole Ferris is a hoot."

The door to the screened in porch opened as they went up the front walk. An attractive lady in her sixties gave them a smile. "Mattlock, how are ya hon?" They hugged.

"I'm just fine and I believe you're getting prettier every time I see you."

"Still a smooth talker. Who's your friend?" Matt introduced the two. "Any friend of Matt's is always welcome here. Y'all come on in – Ferris is waiting for you." They entered the surprising coolness of the porch where four ceiling fans were circulating the air. Down at the far end a man in his 80's was watching a baseball game on TV. "Ferris, you've got company."

Looking up Ferris Wylie saw who was there and gave a chuckle. "Houston, is that you under all that fuzz?"

"Yes sir it sure is. How are ya doin'?" The pair shook hands.

"Finer 'n a frog hair split four ways. Chuck tells me you and CJ finally got hitched and had a young'un and got a couple more on the way. 'Bout time you wised up."

"Yes sir, we did." He went on to tell the old Ranger about Tomás.

"Kicked it into high gear on the family front – damn good thing. Sit down."

After introducing Michael and spending a few minutes talking over old times, Houston asked what he knew about Oliphant.

"I know plenty and none of it good. Saw his Studebaker on the news last night."

"Can you tell us what was happening about the time Tank disappeared?" Houston took a sip of the iced tea that Charlotte Wylie had brought to them.

"Ole Tank was up to his ears in all kinds of mischief – booze, hookers, numbers, loan sharking, and a nifty little plant named marijuana. Now back then a fella could probably handle one or two of those enterprises without leaning too much on hired help, but Tank was a greedy SOB. He had the final say-so on things but after he married Lydia Stuttgart his mind was on more than business."

"How did they meet?" Michael spoke up, now intrigued by the cold case.

"Hah! The night her father had two choices: either hand her over to Tank for a wife to cover his gambling debts or take a bullet to the head."

"So the arranged marriage from hell…" The PI shook his head. "I see now why Lydia wouldn't have minded being a widow."

"What about Magowsky?" Michael accepted a refill of tea.

"Miles was smart. He was on his own from the age of twelve and learned how to make a buck hustling. Oliphant took notice about the time he was seventeen and brought him into the operation. Within a year he was second in command. Now when the deal with Lydia happened more than a few folks noticed that she was awfully fond of Miles and rumors spread quick but Tank ignored it. Most folks assumed that the two of them were behind his disappearance but there wasn't any proof. Not long after that they took a trip to Mexico and got married but it wasn't legal here in the states. Miles ran the show until he got busted in 1974 by the Feds. He served some time behind bars but got out in '85. Gotta give him credit – he hid most of the money somewhere. Lydia wasn't hurting for cash while he was away."

"And they're still married." Houston nodded. "So he hasn't been popped for anything since."

"Not a thing." Ferris yawned.

"There were two folks in that car – one was shot with a .38 in the head and it looks like the passenger was stabbed. I've got a list here of men who were reported missing around that time. Would you see if any of the names ring a bell?" He handed over the printout as Ferris adjusted his glasses. Tapping on the page he nodded.

"Thomas Braun…" The former Ranger went on down the list. "Leonard Smithson." Handing it back to Matt he went on. "Braun and Smithson were both working for Tank. Rumor going around was that Braun took a trip down to Mexico and got killed in a bar fight; but Smithson – not a clue. Houston, you just might be on to something. Back then we didn't particularly care where they had gone: we were just glad they were."

"Can't say as I blame you." He finished the tea. "I sure appreciate the help."

"Anytime. You give CJ a hug for me, ya hear?"

"Yes sir. Y'all take care."

Back out in the truck Matt pulled out of the drive and headed toward his own house. "Let's grab some lunch and see what we can dig up on Braun and Smithson."

With Madre Rosa taking the day off, the two sat down at the kitchen table as they dug into some sandwiches and read through what could be found on the two men. Houston logged into the department's website and pulled up records on both men. Thomas Braun was forty two years old at the time of his last arrest in 1951 and had a record dating back to 1922, when at the age of thirteen he was nabbed while delivering a truckload of liquor, which due to the Prohibition laws of the time was illegal. He was put into reform school and escaped two years later. His next arrest was in 1926 on an assault and battery charge. It was noted in the file that he was rumored to be working for Oliphant in his loansharking enterprises as a leg breaker in 1944, and then in 1950 he seemingly had been promoted to what the officer making the note referred to as "fourth banana". Matt snickered at the description. The last arrest in 1951 was for a drunk and disorderly that earned him thirty days in the county jail. That was the end of the file.

After popping the last of his sandwich the PI looked up Leonard Smithson. "Says here Smithson worked for Tank over ten years before he ever did any time. He was basically in charge of the numbers racket. Hmmm…but that isn't what he got busted for: he got caught with a bottle of bootleg whiskey in a movie theater." He continued reading. "This guy was pretty smart. They could never get enough evidence on him to prosecute for the numbers. The whiskey arrest was the only time he ever got picked up. His mother reported him missing in March of '54."

"That's unusual – how old was he at the time?"

"Thirty eight…" Matt leaned back and took a long swig of root beer. "So the question is, do we (a) go talk to Miles and Lydia, or (b) see if either Smithson or Braun still have any family around who might be willing to give us a DNA sample?"

"Those are the only two options I can think of…maybe try the DNA route first?"

"Okay. Let's see what we can find. Looks like a trip to town to check out hatching records." He gave the cop a smirk as he picked up the plates and went to the sink, rinsing them before putting them in the dishwasher.

After passing through the security gates at the end of the driveway they turned left and headed toward the city. "Ya know… if Miles or Lydia – or both – were behind Tank's disappearance any jail time would likely be a death sentence." Houston looked at Hoyt who nodded thoughtfully.

"But if the killer is still alive – no matter who it is – it'll be a death sentence."

"True."

Matt drove down to the Vital Statistics office and after showing his badge, he and Michael were led back to one of the offices by a short gray haired lady who tapped on the doorframe.

"Melissa? I've got a Detective Houston here who needs to find some possible birth records." She led the pair in and the face of the woman behind the desk lit up.

"_Detective_ Houston? I thought you were a private investigator?" She came around the desk and gave Matt a hug. "It's so good to see you!"

"Well I sure didn't know you worked here. Michael Hoyt – meet Melissa Kelly…or maybe not." He laughed as he saw the ring on her finger.

She extended her hand to the cop. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Michael. And it's Reed now. Come on in and have a seat." Sitting down once again she looked at Matt. "So you finally came to your senses. I heard at the last reunion that you and CJ were married and expecting."

"We were…" He handed across his phone with a picture of CJ, Catey, and Tomás and explained the addition of the fifteen year old, and then with a big smile told her about the twins.

"I'm not a bit surprised. Well good – that' how it should have been a long time ago. Jeff and I have twin girls." She turned around her monitor showing a picture of the girls. "They're eight now."

"Wow! Congratulations."

"Thanks. Now…" She pulled the keyboard over. "…what can I do for you?"

"We need to see if two men were ever listed as fathers on any birth certificates."

"Do you have any idea of when?"

"Most likely in the 1930's or '40's."

Melissa whispered across the desk. "That _was_ you on the news last night with Tank Oliphant's car! I told Jeff that was you!"

"Yep, the two men we're wondering about worked for Tank. Thomas James Braun, DOB 03/37/1909 and Leonard Eugene Smithson DOB 10/19/1923."

"Ooh this is exciting!" She began the search.

"Michael…" Houston turned to his friend. "You know – we don't even know for sure that that was Tank in the car…we all just assumed."

With a surprised look on his face the lieutenant nodded. "Yeah…the sheriff seemed to think it was him, but we really don't know yet."

"I need to…" The deputy stopped and then looked at his former classmate.

"Don't worry – I'll see if Oliphant was ever named." She beamed at the pair. "I've never been in involved in a murder before."

Hoyt spoke up. "Most sensible people aren't." He and Matt both chuckled before there was a bright flash of light outside and the lights in the building suddenly grew brighter before going completely out.

Melissa gave a surprised squeal and all three jumped. The heavens opened up and the rain began pouring down.

Pulling a lighter from his pocket as he stood, Houston flicked it and the small flame brought a little light to the office. "You okay?"

"I think so…thought my heart had stopped for second there." The rattled woman stood and felt around in the bottom drawer of the desk, removing a large candle that Matt lit. "Just think: all those years I dreamed of Mattlock Houston and candlelight!" All three cracked up. "This is going to slow down our murder mystery, though."

"Well, they've been dead all this time – I don't reckon a little longer will bother 'em too much."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

After checking in with Sheriff Martinez, Houston and Hoyt headed back to the ranch. As soon as he parked the truck his phone rang. "Yeah Marty?"

"We've got a problem. The storm that came through here earlier knocked down some trees; the fence on the west side looks like Swiss cheese. We've got about fifty head over the property line and we lost a couple of calves – looks like lightning got 'em. Me and the boys have already got some supplies out here but not near enough."

"Alright." After telling them to start work on the fence line but to leave a gap to get the cattle back through he hung up and gave Michael a big smile. "Feel like making a delivery run?" He and his friend loaded up more fencing supplies and the cowboy saddled a horse for himself along with Scott Tisdale's horse and led the cop back to the area where the damage had occurred, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw that the tree where he and CJ had met had escaped harm. He spotted the cowboys a little farther down the fence line. "Y'all havin' fun yet?" All four of the men were soaked to the bone.

"Havin' fun yet?" Marty gave a smart impersonation of his boss and grinned. "You sure made good time."

"Just pulled in when you called. Scott – ready to round 'em up?"

"Yes sir." The newest member of the crew mounted his horse and started after his boss onto the adjoining property.

Marty chuckled. "Good thing ole Errol's dead and buried. He was a mean old bastard."

"I hear the new owner can be downright evil at times." His back to the others, Houston grinned as he started onto the property that was now his and unbeknownst to CJ, hers. Talking to himself he chuckled. "Bet Errol is spinning in hell right now."

"What'd ya say?" Scott caught up to him.

"Nothin'." The cowboy chuckled once again and began whistling as he crossed the pasture. "So how's it going these days?" He looked over at Scott who smiled.

"A lot better than it was Christmas Eve."

"Good." Matt had met him the previous Christmas Eve when he and Chuck had been dispatched to a shots fired call. The recently discharged Army veteran had been unable to find a job and his wife announced that she was divorcing him. The new deputy took care of his bail and gave him the job at the ranch after learning that he had spent his entire life - aside from his time in the service – working cattle on his family's ranch that had gone into foreclosure and been sold while he was in Afghanistan.

The cattle were milling around just ahead of the two cowboys and they began easing them back onto the Houston ranch, a task that took only fifteen minutes. When all were accounted for and back where they belonged, the two dismounted and began on the fence. With the help of lights from the three vehicles that were in the pasture and the hard work of all six men, the repairs were complete before 9:00PM. "Tell ya what…" Matt removed the hat from his head and wiped away the sweat with the t-shirt that was hanging from his pocket. "…I believe we've earned some supper. What do y'all want?" As they made the trip back up to the barn, they debated among themselves, finally deciding to have Chinese food delivered. Back up at the house, Madre Rosa was sitting on the back porch knitting when the group came out of the pasture and began unloading equipment.

"What have you boys done now?" She laughed at the men who were a nasty, muddy, mess.

"Taking care of business…and creating dirty clothes." Houston and Hoyt made their way up to the back porch. "Think you can call in an order to Ming's?"

"I can." She took the paper from him and the money, going into the laundry room just off of the kitchen and opening the washer. Matt gave her a peck on the cheek and thanked her before going into the laundry room and stripping out of his clothes, tossing them into the machine followed by Michael.

All cleaned up and changed into shorts the two came downstairs and as Matt found napkins, Hoyt helped the housekeeper bring in the order. A little later the four cowboys came into the kitchen and a rowdy, laughter-filled meal ensued, interrupted only by a phone call from CJ. As Matt went out on the back porch, the cat-calls and comments were overheard by her and she cracked up. "Sounds like you're having a party."

"Kinda sorta but not exactly." He told her what had happened with the cattle.

"Good thing Uncle Errol is gone or he would have threatened to shoot every one of the cows and you, too…again." She shook her head thinking back to the old days.

"I mighta shot back." After a few minutes of conversation they said goodnight and Houston walked back into the kitchen.

"Did she tell ya to go to bed?" Pat drank down the last of his beer and punched Scott in the ribs.

"Not exactly." Matt sat back down, a big smile plastered on his face.

"Well then what did she say?" The cowboy leaned forward and his brother Marty spoke up.

"Knowing those two you probably don't want to know." The whole group busted up again and then they headed down to the bunkhouse.

"Hey Marty – have you got a minute?" Houston stepped out onto the back porch.

"Sure." He stayed behind on the porch as his boss sat down on one of the swings and pulled out a couple of cigars, handing one to the foreman as he settled in next to him. "Something wrong?" He bit the end off of the cigar and took the lighter that Matt handed him and began lighting the end.

"No, not that I know of…I just wondered how you thought things were going." He took the lighter back and lit the cigar taking a big puff and watching as the smoke drifted upward through the beams of porch light.

"I'd say we're doing pretty good. But…"

"It's almost time to hire some more help." Houston looked over at the foreman who chuckled and nodded. "Well, I'm going to tell you something but I need you to keep mum about it." Michael walked out and joined the two, Matt tossing a cigar and the lighter to him as he sat down on the end of the swing.

"Uh oh…not sure I like the sound of that." Marty had enjoyed his time working for Houston more than any other job he had ever had and was hoping that the boss didn't want to shut things down. He didn't think he would, but the worry was there.

Seeing the foreman's face in the porch light, Matt chuckled. "It isn't anything bad, Marty. Relax. Actually…" He took another puff on the cigar and watched the smoke once again. "…I think you might be happy about it."

"Oh boy…" The cowboy looked at Hoyt who was smiling like the cat that ate the canary. "I guess you already know what it is he's up to?"

"I do." Hoyt nodded and puffed on the cigar.

"Uh huh. Lemme guess. City boy here…" Marty nodded in Michael's direction. "…wants to be a cowboy now."

All three laughed and Matt looked down at Michael. "I'm not sure if he does or not, but he did a damn good job out there tonight."

"Considering I don't know a damn thing about fencing." The cop laughed.

"No Marty – I made a little purchase today." The billionaire took another puff. "Old Errol is probably screaming in hell right now…I bought the old Parsons' property."

"Son of a gun." The foreman gave a big laugh. "So are we expanding onto that land?"

"Kind of…" Houston shifted on the swing slightly and popped his back. "You were around when CJ and I were in high school."

"Yeah."

"Well, from the time she was twelve or so she always said she wished that ranch was hers to run the right way."

"She could have done it at twelve – but Errol didn't want to think that hard."

"Well now she's going to have the chance. I haven't told her yet, though and I don't want word of it getting around. Michael here knows and Madre Rosa and now you. That place needs a lot of work. It's going to have to be completely redone: the house, barn, everything."

"That's gonna take some time."

Nodding as he took another puff, the cowboy smiled. "I've been wanting to get that land for quite a while. The last time it was up for sale I was out of the country and by the time I got back it was gone. I've had Lyle Sorenson keeping an eye on it for me and as soon as it was foreclosed on he called me and now it's ours."

"So what's the plan?" The foreman was now at ease; he hadn't really thought the boss would ditch the cattle business and was relieved that he had been right.

"That's up to CJ. But I'm willing to bet she wants to run horses on it. That's really what she always wanted to do with it. I'm just glad I've finally got the opportunity to let her run with it."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing just yet. All the decisions on that will be CJ's. What I've been thinking though is that she's going to need a foreman over there."

"Boss Man, I don't think I could handle both…if that's what you're suggesting. Maybe I think too much of myself."

"No, you don't." He took another puff. "Marty, you have no idea how happy I was when I landed you and Pat. Without you two and Ollie this place wouldn't be what it is right now and I'm grateful. As a matter of fact y'all are due a nice raise."

"They'll like that. 'Course I won't mind it either." All three chuckled.

"Like I said, the decisions for that venture will be CJ's but she will probably need some help finding a foreman, but I've got an idea that I wanted to bounce off of you. Again, keep it under your hat, though. I don't want to get anybody's hopes up and then it not happen."

"Did you have somebody in mind?"

"I do. Somebody who is dependable and saved my butt a few years back."

"Ollie." The foreman nodded. "I think he would be damn near perfect, Houston."

"Like I said – CJ's choice and keep it mum, okay? Just wanted to get your opinion on it."

"I ain't sayin' a word but I like the way you think."

"I also wanted to ask you about Scott."

"That's why you took him with you tonight." He watched as the boss nodded and puffed. "Pat kinda got slightly miffed but I told him there was a reason for it. I figured you wanted to see him working since you haven't had much chance to be around here."

"Yep and I was impressed. He's real good with the horses, too."

"So you think CJ might want him for the other spread."

"If she asks for suggestions he would be my top choice." They were quiet for a minute. "You and Pat have always been a team – at least as far back as I can remember. But if CJ should want him over there that would be up to him. I'd kinda like to keep both of y'all here if that's what you both want."

"Pat's his own man – it'd be his decision but most likely he would stay put. So what you're really trying to tell me with all this is be on the lookout for more help."

"And keep in mind anybody that CJ might want. I'm not around here enough…" Matt stopped, not certain of what he wanted to say exactly. "…But one of these days I will be." Hoyt cut his eyes over at his friend. He had suspected for a couple of years that Houston was thinking about retiring and his plans for the ranch and now the additional land seemed to reinforce that. "I see ya over there, Michael." He gave a chuckle. "Not yet, bud…but I'm trying to get things ready for when I do."

"Sounds sensible to me." Hoyt had decided not long ago that when Matt quit he was going to quit the police force as well. It was a hard enough job even with the PI's help; without it – he could no longer imagine.

"You're thinking about it, too." Leaning forward slightly with the cigar clamped in his teeth he grinned at the cop. "I can see the signs, pard."

"Yeah, I have been. Just give me a little warning when you make up your mind will ya? I've got to give a little notice." He looked at the man who just a few short years earlier had been an enemy; neither one could have foreseen how much they would come to depend on each other.

Marty, sitting between the two looked back and forth. "You mean to tell me that when this yahoo over here retires you're gonna retire?"

"Yep." Hoyt hadn't voiced it out loud before and wasn't surprised in the least when the PI burst into laughter.

"You gonna become a cowboy when you retire?" Marty looked at the man that he hadn't known too long. He wasn't sure about Hoyt the first time they had been introduced but Houston's instincts about horses, cows, and people were usually right. Michael had turned out to be okay.

"Don't know. I still need to do some thinking."


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

The next morning dawned with dark clouds hanging low overhead and rumbles of thunder came from the west as Houston stood out on the back porch finishing the cup of coffee. His talk with Marty and Michael the night before had ended with a jolt of surprise from the LAPD lieutenant's announcement. Smiling over the rim of the cup as he looked back over the pastures he thought back to when they had met a few years back after Vince Novelli had been forced to retire. They still disagreed from time to time but they made a pretty good team.

Madre Rosa had watched him for a minute before walking out onto the deck. As soon as he saw her there he slipped an arm around her and gave her a peck on the cheek. "I overheard what Michael said last night about retirement." He nodded. "You two have become very close."

"If you could have seen us at first you would've never believed it could happen." He chuckled and drank down the last of the coffee, setting the cup down on the rail as he adjusted the gun belt on his waist and the strap around his leg as Hoyt walked out on the back porch. Matt looked around at him. "So what's your plan today?"

"This Oliphant thing has got me hooked. I don't generally care too much for cold cases but it's intriguing."

"So what you're saying is that you're feeling nosy today."

"I suppose." Hoyt took a deep breath of the fresh air.

"Guess I better get moving." Houston turned and started for the steps as the first few drops of rain began to fall and then stopped suddenly, a look coming over his face.

"What?" Michael had seen it happen enough now to know that his friend had just had a premonition.

"Madre Rosa…what have you got planned today?" He turned to the housekeeper.

"Finishing up the laundry, cleaning…the usual. Why?"

"Stick close to home…and keep the weather on." He worriedly looked up at the sky as he went on down the steps and went to the bunkhouse as Marty and the boys were heading out to start on their day.

"Mornin', Boss Man." The foreman looked up as a loud clap of thunder sounded.

"Y'all gonna bury those calves this morning?"

"Sure are."

"Do it and come on back."

"Uh…well we have some other fences that need a little work." The four cowboys exchanged a look and then looked back at the boss.

"Don't worry about that today. The weather is gonna get bad. Stick close and keep an eye on Madre Rosa, would ya?"

"Sure, whatever you want." Marty watched as he nodded and then went to the truck. "Michael?"

"Yeah?"

"Did he just…you know…" The cowboy motioned with his hands.

"Yep." The cop turned and loaded up in the truck.

"Oh boy. Pat, why don't you and Scott go deal with those calves and we'll take care of the horses." Marty watched over his shoulder as the deputy drove down the driveway and disappeared around the corner of the house. He and the others had witnessed one of Houston's visions a few months back that resulted in Scott being saved from a rattlesnake in the barn. No one doubted him and scooted off to get the work done.

Driving along in the truck, Matt kept rubbing the back of his neck. "What are you seeing?" Hoyt watched his friend carefully.

"I'm not…it's more of a feeling. Remember when Catey was born?"

"Yeah – you had a feeling that there were going to be tornadoes and there were."

"It's coming in loud and clear." He got quiet and worked his way through the morning traffic to the Sheriff's Department, got Hoyt a visitor's pass, and went into the squad room. Appropriating a chair for Michael, he sat down behind the desk and looked at the messages that had been left for him. A minute later Chuck came into the cubicle.

"Well looky here, Detective Sergeant Houston is at work!" He gave a big laugh and noticed that his longtime friend wasn't laughing but seemed distracted. "You alright?"

"Yeah." Matt rubbed the back of his neck again. "Lisa and the kids at home?"

"For the moment. They're going to Mom's for the day. Why?"

"Just tell 'em to keep an eye on the weather." He got up and went to the coffee pot.

"What's up with him?"

Michael answered. "He says there are going to be tornadoes."

"How does he…oh." The deputy dialed his house and as Houston returned with three cups he ended the call to his wife. "So how's it coming on the Oliphant deal?"

"Slowly." He explained what they had done so far and how he had run into their high school classmate the day before.

"Good idea. So now what?"

"I got a message from the ME's office that Phillip Burris – you know the guy that ran into the cars? Well it was a massive heart attack that killed him. They've also gotten DNA samples from the two folks in the Studebaker and are running them through the system." He stopped and rubbed the back of his neck again before taking a long sip of coffee. "I'm going to see if Melissa has had any luck with the search for relatives and then the only other thing I know to do is go talk to Miles and Lydia." Swallowing more coffee he looked up at Chuck. "What about the kids in the Chevelle?"

"They're running the DNA comparisons. There weren't any obvious signs of foul play. I think it was either a drag race that caused them to go in or just an inexperienced kid behind the wheel trying to show off for his prom date."

The phone on Houston's desk rang. "Houston…Hey Melissa, we were just talkin' bad about ya." He chuckled. "You did? That's great. Yeah I'd sure appreciate it, hon. You take care. 'Bye." After hanging up the phone he rubbed his hands together and smiled. "Both Oliphant and Braun were named as fathers. Nothing showed up on Smithson, though. She's emailing the records." Working the keyboard he motioned Michael around the desk as he opened his mail, pulling a notebook out of his pocket. "Okay, Oliphant was named as father in a 1939 birth: Mary Louise Jenkins was born at St. Luke's on July 8th. The mother was Harriet Delores Jenkins." He read a little further. "Melissa researched her and said that as far as she can tell Harriet is still alive…the last known address was on Delta Street in North Pasadena. That was two years ago. She didn't find anything on the daughter, though. Braun had a son by Genevieve Longview, December 12, 1946 named Edgar Rouche Longview. Genevieve died in '67…no information on Edgar."

"That's more than we had when we walked in the door." Hoyt leaned against the cubicle wall and watched as Matt's fingers flew across the keyboard.

"I've got a Mary Louise Jenkins that lives in North Pasadena…" He wrote down the address and phone number. "Now let's see…Edgar…where are ya?" After a couple of minutes he nodded. "Guess the apple didn't fall far from the tree. He's been locked up on rape charges before...so…" Leaning back in the chair he looked across at Chuck. "We can compare his DNA with no problem."

"You'd hate to get a lucky break." The deputy laughed and picked up his phone as it rang.

Houston's cell phone rang. "Yes ma'am?" He drank down more of the coffee. "I'm downstairs…Yes ma'am." Hanging up he tagged Michael as he got out of the chair. "The sheriff wants an update. C'mon." He led the way to the elevator and punched the button.

"You know it's weird." Hoyt watched as the numbers changed.

"What?"

"You're the cop and I'm not."

"Heh heh…" Matt exited the car and went to the secretary's desk where he was told that he could go on in. After a quick knock on the door he stuck his head inside.

"Come on in." Francine Martinez pushed away the keyboard. "I see you've got supervision today…that's a good thing." Smiling she offered the two men a seat. "So what have you gotten?" She listened as he explained everything up to that point. "I knew you would be the right one for the job. Glad you were down here."

"Michael is, too; he told me this morning he was hooked on the case." The deputy chuckled.

"I've got to say it's a lot easier to deal with when it isn't my responsibility." The LAPD lieutenant spoke.

"I'm sure it is. So you're next move will be…?"

"I'm going to let the lab know about Edgar Longview. Then try to find Mary Louise Jenkins and then I think I'll pay a visit to the Magowskys."

"Sounds like you've got it covered. How are CJ and Catey doing?" She smiled as he handed across his phone. "Who's the boy?"

"He is now our son. We adopted him a couple of weeks ago." Matt's face was one big smile.

"Congratulations…guess you'll be up for father of the year."

"Doubt it." He took back the phone and looked at the picture for a second, the fact that he missed them clearly showing on his face. The sheriff and Hoyt exchanged a knowing look. "Time to get movin' I reckon." The PI stood up and froze in his tracks.

"Are you okay?" Martinez watched as he blinked for a second, a faraway look in his eyes. "Houston?"

"Matt? What was it this time?" Hoyt was at his friend's side.

"It's definitely going to happen." He dialed the phone. "Y'all get down in the basement. I don't know if they've sent out warnings or not…just please do it. 'Bye." He hung up and then called the Wylie household.

Charlotte Wylie answered and was told the same thing. "They just gave the warning, hon. We're headed downstairs now."

By this time Martinez was on her feet looking at the detective like he had lost his mind when the weather radio on her desk alerted. "How in the hell did you know that was going to happen?" All three left the office and headed for the stairwell along with the secretary.

"It's kind of a…" Matt's phone rang. "Yeah Babe? We've got storm sirens going off – we're heading down to the basement. I'm at the department. Love you, too. 'Bye."

Once down in the basement, Martinez leaned closer. "Okay, now explain this to me…did you just…?"

"It happens sometimes." The detective shook his head.

"That is amazing." She looked at him with a new-found respect. "So it just – boom?"

"Yes ma'am." The storm sirens were blaring out in the streets.

"It's come in handy several times on cases." Michael grinned at the look on her face and then gave a grimace as a loud roll of thunder shook the building.

"I would say so. Pardon me for asking but is it something that you can control?"

"No ma'am. It just…" There was a loud crash outside the building, and then the noise level was deafening. In a matter of seconds it was over. The radios that the officers carried now came to life again as they began to emerge from the shelter.

"We'll talk about it later. I want you two to go outside and see what kind of damage we've got." She began giving orders to the men and women who were now heading out of the basement to try to see if anyone needed help.

As he headed out, the PI was looking around for Chuck and then looked up at the building. There were three broken windows across the front of the building and a light post had fallen across the street blocking traffic. He instructed a nearby deputy to radio the information to Martinez, taking the young woman by the arm and then moved on around the building, coming face to face with a jumble of what had been personal vehicles in the parking lot – including his own truck. It had been rolled along with four others. "Damn." After checking to make sure no one was inside or pinned underneath the wreckage, they moved on along to the south side of the building that stood next to Buffalo Bayou. A couple of trees were down and there were a few windows broken out but no major damage was noticeable. The western side hadn't sustained any damage at all. The three went inside and up the stairs to the roof. Other than a few rough looking spots it seemed to be pretty well intact. Thanking the officer that had been radioing in his reports, Matt headed back down to find Chuck. "Would you call and check on Madre Rosa for me?"

"Sure." Michael pulled out his phone, surprised that the cell phone had a signal and made the call, being reassured that everyone was okay and that they were out checking for damage. As he passed the news along they both spotted Chuck.

"You okay?" Matt had to raise his voice to be heard over the din of the squad room where phones and radios were ringing and squawking.

"Yeah, Mom called." He grinned. "They're fine. I'm gonna get to do some roofing tonight. How's everybody at the ranch?"

"They're fine but I've got to get another truck."

"You're kidding…"

"Nope – it got rolled along with about four others…no, yours wasn't one of 'em."

"Phew…sorry to hear that. That was a nice truck." His phone rang and he was dispatched to cover a possible robbery-homicide. "You would think a tornado would slow 'em down – but nooooo." He rolled his eyes as he started out of the squad room.

After a long day of helping direct traffic and assess damage, Matt and Hoyt made it home around 7:00. The house seemed to be okay as they drove the Sheriff's Department SUV around to the back and it was then that he saw that the bunkhouse that had been there since the 1950's was gone. "Wow…" Climbing out he walked down to where the four cowboys were coming out of the barn. "Y'all okay?"

"Yeah, we are…but the bunkhouse didn't fare so well." Ollie looked at the wreckage sadly.

"Did you manage to save any of your stuff – clothes – whatever?"

"Not really." Pat watched as his brother paced back and forth before stepping back into the rubble. Lowering his voice he spoke again. "He's trying to find his pictures."

"Pam and the baby?" Matt knew that Marty had been married at one time but his wife and three week old daughter had been killed by a drunk driver. All he had left were the memories and pictures. He had never remarried. Pat nodded, following his boss into the rubble. Pulling on a pair of tactical gloves Matt put a hand on Marty's shoulder. "I'm sorry, bud. Let's see what we can find." His answer was a nod and they moved toward what had been the bedroom that the foreman occupied. "Where did you have them?"

"They…" Marty's voice cracked and he swallowed hard, closing his eyes and fighting back the tears that wanted to fall.

"Easy, pard." Matt put an arm around him. "If they're here we're gonna find 'em."

"Thanks." Taking in a shaky breath he pointed. "They were in the top drawer of the dresser that was along that wall. God only knows where it is now."

"Michael, Scott – would y'all get on that end?" He pointed to a large piece of a plaster wall that was covering a large part of what had been the bedroom. As Pat joined him on his end, they worked together and moved it toward the front of the bunkhouse.

"What in the hell is all this stuff?" Scott picked up a pair of dirty curtains that were still attached to the rod.

"That didn't come from here." The deputy knelt down and began sifting through the rubble as did the others. There were chunks of plaster and wood, insulation, clothing, everything imaginable in the pile. After pulling off what seemed like ten layers he stopped. "Marty…" There in front of them only showing a little dampness was the small picture album. He picked it up, wiping the cover on his shirt and handed it to the foreman whose eyes filled with tears once again.

"Thank you." The reply was choked. He opened it up and the contents were completely undisturbed.

"Is that all of it?" Houston's voice was very quiet and as the foreman nodded, unable to speak, he went to him and took him by the shoulder, guiding him out of the rubble.

"Do the rest of y'all have anything that we need to look for?" The other three shook their heads no.

"Let's get a drink, huh?" All six men walked up to the house and into the kitchen. "Y'all go on and have a seat." Matt went to the fridge and removed six beers and handed them around as Madre Rosa pulled out sandwich ingredients.

"You need to eat. Marty…" She walked around and gave him a hug. "That means you, too."

"Now don't set her on the warpath, bud. You've got no idea just how mean this little lady can be…" Matt gave her a wink as the others started to laugh.

"Guys, I appreciate the help." Marty cleared his throat and popped the top on the beer. "To the best damn crew in the state of Texas." The men all clinked their bottles together and took a drink then began piling sandwiches together.

As soon as he was done eating Matt stood up and headed for the door. "Where ya goin', Boss Man?" Pat swallowed the last of his beer.

"I need to go check on something. Marty, Michael…y'all want to come?"

"Sure." Both men followed.

"Tell ya what." Matt reached back for his wallet and removed $2,000. "Y'all go hit up Waldo Mart and get ya some clothes and whatever else you need. That'll get you started. Pat – if that isn't enough use the credit card…and get your brother some drawers while you're at it."

"Houston, you don't have to do that." Ollie shook his head.

"Just consider it part of your raise." He saw the surprised faces. "You didn't tell 'em?" He looked at Marty with a big grin on his face.

"Not yet."

"Congratulations – now you know. Now go get some bloomers…and don't forget the deodorant." Matt took off out the back door and to the SUV. As they piled inside it dawned on Marty that the truck wasn't there. His boss saw the question coming. "It got totaled when the department got hit -rolled like a Fizzy Pop can."

"I'm sorry." Marty shook his head. "That was a damn good truck, too."

"Open the gate for us there." Matt waited as the foreman opened the pasture gate.

"We already checked the fences – they're okay." He got back inside. "We took a count – all the cattle are there."

"That's not what I'm wondering about." Matt drove on around the fence line and breathed another sigh of relief as he saw that his and CJ's tree was still standing and still very much alive.

"Okay, I've never asked before: what the hell is it with you and that tree?" Marty turned to look at his boss.

"That my friend is a place where history was made." The deputy was all smiles now as he turned the SUV around.

"History? What history?"

"That's where CJ and I met twenty five years ago."

"You're kiddin' me."

"Nope."

"Well I always wondered why you smile when you pass by it. I'll be damned. Huh." He nodded. "Thanks again for helping me look for the album. That's all I've got that means anything to me."

"I know." They went back out of the pasture and down the driveway. "I'm gonna go check and see if there's anything left of the Parsons place."

"I didn't even think about that. We were so busy fixing the roof on the barn and checking cattle and fences."

Matt pulled up the driveway and stopped next to the house. Some of the windows had been busted out but it was pretty much intact. The barn though, was another matter. The loft was now lying in the pen to the right of the structure. "Well…" He paused for a second. "It looks like we won't have as much trash to haul away. Gotta look at the bright side, right?"

"You ain't right, Houston." Marty laughed.

Turning on the headlights, the deputy started to turn around when Hoyt stopped him. "Put your lights back on the barn." He did. "Guess what's still there?" He put a hand on Matt's shoulder. In the beam of the headlights the shaft of metal from the knife that the fifteen year old Houston had slammed into the wooden beam seemed to glow and the now thirty five year old man nodded. "How in the hell did you do that?"

"I was mad. You don't mess with CJ." Dropping the SUV into gear, the cowboy turned it around and went back to the house that would now have four more residents until the bunkhouse was rebuilt.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

At 7:30 the next morning, Houston and Hoyt rolled into the department parking lot. The remains of the vehicles had been removed the afternoon before and Matt had recovered the tools and other belongings that were inside of his truck. As he sat down behind the desk to check his messages Chuck walked in. "Didja have fun roofing?"

"It wasn't too bad - a shingle here and there. Uncle Ferris slept right through the whole damn thing." All three cracked up. "What about y'all?"

"The bunkhouse is gone."

"Wow. Everybody okay?"

"Yep. I told 'em to come up with some ideas on how they want the new one to be laid out."

"Oh boy – with that group it could get interesting."

"Well…" Matt stood up and popped his back. "I'm not getting anything done sitting here on my duff. Gonna go try to track down Mary Louise Jenkins. The sheriff left me a note – said that she gave the lab a heads up on Edgar Longview so there isn't much else I can do – aside from talking to Lydia and Miles."

"Sounds like a plan. Good luck." He watched as the two friends started out. "Keep him outta trouble, Michael."

"Yeah, right…not!" The cop snickered as they went out to the parking lot.

"Alright…" The cowboy pulled out his notebook and looked up the address he had jotted down for Jenkins. "Let's go see if it's her." He pulled out onto Baker Street, then hit San Jacinto down to I-45, then headed east on I-610 exiting at Red Bluff Road going southeast until he came to Thomas Avenue. Taking a left he followed it on around to Bearle Street and finally turned onto Marshall Street. "Well, there's a car in the driveway. Maybe we'll get lucky." They went up to the front door and began knocking. After a minute it was answered by a woman in her seventies who looked surprised to see police at her door. "Mary Louise Jenkins?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No ma'am. I'm Sergeant Houston…" He tapped on the badge. "We need some information and thought you might be able to help us."

"I can't imagine what I could tell you, but please come in." She stood back, closing the door behind the two visitors and directing them to a sofa on the far side of the room. "What is this all about?"

"Ma'am, I need your help with a cold case that we're working…it may involve your father."

"I'm sorry Sergeant, but I don't know much about my father." There was a movement and Matt looked up to see a lady of about ninety standing in the doorway, a shocked expression on her face. He and Hoyt both stood.

"Mother, these men are detectives…something about my father?" She helped the older lady to a seat.

"I was always afraid this day would come." Harriet Jenkins folded her hands in her lap. "I saw his car on the news the other night. Always wondered where he had been. Tank was in a rough business and I knew better – knew that he had a lot of enemies." She looked at the two men. "My parents disowned me – put me out on the street in a heartbeat when they found out. I was four months along then."

"Do you have any idea who might have killed him?" Matt spoke gently to the lady.

"Like I said, he had a lot of enemies. I really don't know. I do know that he married a girl named Lydia. She and Miles Magowsky got married not long after Tank disappeared. I thought maybe they were behind it but when Lydia found out about Mary Louise here, she made sure that we were taken care of. Every month an envelope was slipped under the door. There is still one to this day." She began to tear up.

"Ma'am we're not here to upset you. I'm sorry if we've caused you any pain but we really need your daughter's help."

"Me? What could I possibly do?"

"You could give us a DNA sample. There were two passengers in the car. We think one of them might have been Tank. If you could help us out we would know for sure."

"I…" She looked to her mother who nodded. "Okay…what do I need to do?"

Matt took both of the ladies to the Sheriff's Department to get statements and to collect the sample from Mary Louise. While they waited outside an office for the lab tech to do his job, Matt sat down on the bench next to the elderly lady. "Young man, I don't know if Lydia had anything to do with his disappearance. All I know is that she took care of my daughter."

"And you don't want anything to happen to her." Houston looked into the wrinkled face.

"I don't. Tank could be a good man, but he had a mean streak. I hoped when we got together I could convince him to mend his ways but it just didn't happen. When I found out that I was expecting I told him." She smiled thinking back. "He was happy about it but said that for our safety he couldn't marry me and that no one could know about it. Well living with my parents that secret wasn't going to last long. I called him when they kicked me out and he put me up in a house, took care of us. Then after he was gone I didn't know what I would do."

"And that's when Lydia stepped up."

"She did…and you know she didn't have to do that."

"No ma'am."

Returning the two ladies to their home, Matt and Hoyt made the ride toward Atascocita. Hoyt looked at the large homes behind wrought iron fences, expensive cars in the driveways, and let out a whistle. "Definitely not North Pasadena."

"Nope." Houston had been quiet during the ride, feeling torn over the case. Tank hadn't been a fine upstanding citizen but he did take care of his child and her mother as had his wife when she became aware of the situation, not that that could excuse her if she was behind his murder. He then looked at it from what he imagined as Lydia's point of view: she had basically been sold by her father to a man she didn't even know and didn't love - something that would make a good motive to murder him. Then there was Miles Magowsky, who most likely wanted Lydia and the operation – also a couple of good motives. He stopped at the security gate of a large home located on Lake Houston, uncannily enough not very far from where Tank's car had been found. After identifying himself and holding his badge up to the camera the gates were opened and he pulled to a stop in front of the house as the front door was opened by a maid who showed them into the sunroom where Lydia Magowsky was seated in a white wicker chair looking out over the lake.

"Ma'am, the detectives are here."

"Thank you, Lucinda. Gentlemen, please – have a seat." She motioned to a wicker couch that was placed alongside her chair.

"Thank you, ma'am." Matt sat down, his white straw cowboy hat in his hands. Lydia Magowsky didn't strike him as a killer and his gut instincts were screaming her innocence.

"Would you care for some tea? Coffee?"

"No ma'am, thank you."

"I know why you're here, Detective Houston." She looked at him over the teacup, her steady blue eyes studying him.

"Ma'am, I really hate to bother you and Mr. Magowsky but we really would like to speak with both of you."

She calmly shook her head. "Miles isn't able." Taking another sip, her hands trembled slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by either man. "I'm afraid my husband won't be with us much longer. He's in the final stages of Alzheimer's."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything that you could tell us?"

"Yes." She finished the cup of tea and set the cup and saucer down with a delicate _clink_ on the tray in front of her. "I know exactly who killed Tank."

"And that would be…?"

"My father." Lydia watched as he pondered the information. "He passed away years ago, Detective."

"Would you tell us what happened?" Matt exchanged a look with Michael whose jaw had dropped at the declaration.

"My father was a good man but he had a bad gambling habit. He would bet on anything and usually lost. Those losses were adding up to a goodly sum of money and Tank wanted to collect. He sent two of his men to pick up my father and I was with him at the time. When he saw me, he told Dad that he had two choices: pay up or hand me over to him. Naturally he argued about it and tried to go after Tank but Braun and Orson grabbed him and beat him half to death. I finally agreed with the understanding that my father's debts would be forgiven and that he would never be allowed to gamble with Tank's operation again. We were married the next day." She paused. "My father was distressed to say the least. He tried to come up with the money and offered to pay Tank off but he wouldn't have any part of it. I was held prisoner for almost a year – wasn't allowed to visit family or friends, or to leave the house…even when my mother died a month later." Standing and crossing over to the large window overlooking the lake she crossed her arms tightly around herself. "Dad began slipping messages to me through the cook – told me to be ready. He didn't know how but he was going to get me out. In February of 1954 he finally managed it – and it ended up costing him his life. He was waiting in the back seat of Tank's car one night when he left a bar with Tommy Braun. They were both drunk and Tommy had gotten into a fight and been stabbed. Tank was driving him to the hospital when dad sat up in the backseat with a gun against Tank's head. He made him drive out to the lake…" Motioning to the large body of water in front of them, she continued. "Dad shot Tank as they were headed down the hill toward the point and made sure that the accelerator was floored. He made it out of the car and back to shore. He died from pneumonia a week later. Before he left us…" She turned back to the two men. "…Daddy told me to be smart – keep Tank's money. He knew that Miles and I were in love and made him promise to take care of me. Then he was gone." Sitting back down she dabbed at her eyes. "There's no one left to arrest but me, Detective."

"No ma'am – you were a victim."

After having her write a statement and sign it, Matt and Hoyt left the home, both remaining quiet until they were nearly back to the department. "That was one possibility that I hadn't really thought about too much." The deputy parked the SUV and they went inside and up to meet with Martinez. As he told her the details she sat in amazement.

"And she kept quiet all this time. I wonder why she didn't just tell someone?"

"I guess to protect her father's memory. Tank had so many enemies I guess she thought one of them would end up taking the fall for it. After so many years it really didn't matter anymore."

"Well…" She got up and walked toward the window overlooking the bayou. "That is sure one heck of a story." Turning to face the two men she smiled. "Thank you. Both of you."

"Just doing my job." Matt stood up.

"Now about that premonition thing…" The sheriff smiled.

"I really can't tell you anything. It just happens sometimes. I never know when." Houston looked across the desk at her. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't mention it to anyone else…it's kind of hard to explain and some folks just flat out don't believe in things like that. I know I didn't use to."

"Neither did I – but he sure made a believer out of me." Hoyt stood.

"Well Sheriff – if you don't mind, I need to go see about replacing a truck for the ranch and I owe Michael here an undisturbed fishing trip."

"Thank you again." Martinez reached across the desk and shook with her deputy. "And you, too, Michael. Please let me know if there is ever anything we can do to help you out here."

"Much appreciated." He followed Houston out and they went down to the squad room.

"Still gonna let me borrow your wheels for a little bit?" Matt found his childhood friend sitting behind the desk pounding on the keyboard trying to catch up on paperwork.

"Sure…just don't kill it." He tossed the keys over.

"I've just gotta take care of the paperwork on the new one. It won't be exactly the same but given that we're gonna need one pretty quick it'll have to do. I'll see you later, bud. Thanks."

"No problem." Chuck watched as the pair went out of the squad room and snuck along behind them, watching as Houston got to his truck in the parking lot.

The Sheriff walked up behind him. "Wylie, what are you doing?"

"I uh…well, hell. Just watch." He grinned as Matt turned the key in the door and sprang backwards as something came shooting out of the truck. Picking it up he looked at the fake snake and then back up at the building and saw Chuck and Martinez both laughing.

After getting into the truck Matt pulled out his phone and called his buddy. "Chuck…"

"Houston…" Laughter could still be heard on the other end of the line.

"I've got one thing to say to you."

"Yeah – what's that?"

"Expect it when you least expect it."


End file.
